Isabel would probably tell Mila that talking this way was calling for bad luck. But for her, it was a way to keep her will going and sanity intact.

“YOU CAN’T STAY!” Mila begged Isabel. The room the rest of the party was escaping to still had a roof. They wouldn’t have to see what was above them. “IT IS TOO DANGEROUS!”

Mila’s words had no effect. Isabel stubbornly refused to budge, her arms still wrapped around Mila. She whispered something - likely a rebuttal.

The words did not reach Mila’s ears. The panicked shouts and failing wills of unfortunate strugglers kept polluting the air with a cacophony of destruction and transformations.

“ISABEL! YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!” Mila desperately tried to persuade her girl. She couldn’t let her love see what was above, nor the moment Mila would give away control. “YOU HAVE TO LEAVE!”

But Isabel stubbornly shook her head, guarding Mila from a stray attack from a corrupted creature that had been once a human.

“ISABEL! I’LL HATE YOU IF YOU DON’T LISTEN!” Mila screamed over the sudden howling as the Inquisitors launched a counterattack against the unmentionable horror outside.

The light above flickered. Mila felt mana shift once more. The ritual helped the Inquisitors to fight back against the ‘Outsider’.

Mila’s hope that the baseless, toothless threat would work was immediately dashed as all it earned from Isabel was a flick against her nose. Then came a pout that made Mila feel immense guilt.

“OKAY! OKAY! I AM SORRY! JUST-” Mila tried the impossible again. She ignored the two powerful howls and a gunshot behind. “JUST LISTEN TO ME!”

Behind Isabel, Mila heard a new fight begin. Laura’s warcry resounded before more joined, culminating in Mr Crow’s song.

“THEY NEED YOUR HELP!” Mila clutched at the straws. “YOU HAVE TO HELP ANDREW! AND VIOLA!” The mention of Mila’s friend earned her another pout from Isabel. “DON’D BE LIKE THAT! SHE IS A FRIEND!”

Zemny’s mad laughter grew in loudness. Another gunshot and the other powerful howl ceased. The situation was changing rapidly, but Mila was still stuck.

Mila opened her mouth again to keep yelling when a figure materialised behind Isabel. The Messanger, still inscrutable, nodded towards Mila but otherwise kept silent. “TAKE HER! YOU PROMISED TO HELP!”

The Messenger nodded. A faint, not-a-whisper found its way to Mila’s ears. “With this, my strength will be spent.” He then opened his arms and descended on Isabel.

Isabel only showed confusion, not understanding what Mila had meant. She didn’t react when a dark, shapeless cover encased her body as the Messanger appeared to melt.

One last message was left behind as they began to blur - ‘I can’t take her far’.

Then they were gone. Mila stood alone. She could now see the fight that had been unfolding behind Isabel.

Helly had monetarily given up on trying to get back her grandfather’s gun and was helping the rest defend against stiff-looking corpses, who were resilient against all damage. Their skin constantly changed, reminding Mila of a bark she had seen on Silinth before his demise.

It was another proof that ‘It’ was near. It wasn’t a new information. Mila looked for a moment longer to see if the defensive line established by Laura, Helly and the Wolf would fall.

When it didn’t, Mila turned around to see what had happened in the large, round room.

On the stage, Mila found only Zemny. The man was madly cackling while waving the gun.

Before the laughing lunatic, a man lay dead - blood pooling out from two small bullet holes. Azan had died.

Mila could not believe it had happened. She was so sure Azan was much stronger than Zemny. Especially with the spellcasting restrictions falling apart, she had thought he would become the most dangerous enemy.

Instead, it was Zemny who had triumphed. It quickly became clear as to why.

It wasn’t the gun that had given Zemny the decisive advantage. No. The man was changing, twisting, losing his mind to something greater than they were.

The man was going through a rebirth, fixing the body that had been almost completely split into three parts - likely by Azan’s attacks.

With how the flesh was knitting back together, bones snapping and mending, and blood crawling back into the body, Zemny made a horrible sight to behold.

Mila took a deep breath. She wondered how much of Zemny was remaining. Was his mind altered completely? That would make things very difficult.

The ritual control room was still filled with skirmishes between the remaining Azan’s people and the freshly transformed.

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For whatever reason, none of the previously corrupted people exhibited the feared presence. Mila felt they were ‘lesser’, but in what way, she didn’t know.

Not so with Zemny. Mila felt the horrid being seep into the man’s body. This felt very much like Silinth had.

With all the established defences falling, the corpses began rising again. They weren’t strong - or even dangerous now. But they served as some sort of nourishment for Zemny.

After a moment, the corpses all fell again while Zemny’s body grew whole again. It was still injured, but not for long.

It was daunting. Mila glanced at the waning mana ball behind Zemny. She had to get there. It was the key to their success. If she could reach it, she could attempt to take control of the ritual one last time.

Not that Mila thought she could - even with the knowledge she had gleaned from her dream. But she wasn’t alone.

Forcing her breath to even out, Mila looked back at the exhausted Raran sitting next to his brother. They had not entered the room before, choosing to contribute from the back.

“COLLAPSE THE DOOR! BAR IT! DO WHAT YOU CAN TO CLOSE OFF THE ROOM!” Mila screamed before plunging herself into the depths of the room.

Mila felt her mana and wrapped herself into it. She felt her magic form and conceal her from the world.

It wasn’t enough to hide from Zemny, whose eyes snapped her way from time to time. But the rest of the room was too busy to search for her.

A falling body of a torn-apart woman smashed into the ground from above. Screams arose above as the hymns faltered. They resumed a moment later, but not before another body fell - broken and corrupted.

Still, Mila refused to look. She pretended she was deaf and hoped her companion would be able to reverse any damage she received from catching some of the noises ‘It’ made.

The very presence of ‘It’ was tainting. Mila could only do her best to keep the damage to the minimum.

With this piece of the world split from the whole, they were so much closer to ‘elsewhere’ than it should be possible. Mila guessed it was why ‘It’ was so much more powerful than when she had met ‘It’ before.

Mila winced as she received a warning from her companion. She was thinking too much about ‘It’ and how it worked. She course-corrected her thoughts.

Andrew and Isabel would be fine. They were special. Laura would likely not be badly impacted if she was careful. Helly probably knew how to counteract the corruption. She was that kind of woman.

But the rest?

Now more than ever, Mila understood why the Temples acted the way they did. Watching one of Azan’s surviving men kill an abomination and then succumb to the spreading miasma, Mila knew most people should be killed to be safe.

Even Silinth had not been able to hold back the corruption for long. Granted, she still wasn’t sure how he had gotten himself infected in the first place. It had been a much more involved process than what was happening here.

Mila slipped beneath a row of broken seats, then crawled forward. She had successfully vanished from everyone’s but Zemny’s attention.

The hateful man’s eyes still found Mila’s prowling form from time to time. He was still knitting himself together, losing clothes and skin in the process. He was growing larger, too.

“I hope you can do something about that!” Mila muttered while avoiding a stray attack.

Now resembling a bloated mix of wood and flesh, Zemny found it difficult to hold the gun properly. It appeared his fingers had lost some of the nimbleness as well. He tried to point the gun at Mila but failed to press the trigger.

Zemny didn’t discard the weapon. He looked down at it with curiosity, then turned his head back to look at the concentrated mana. “NO, NO!” He suddenly clutched his head.

It was a chance to increase her pace. Mila jumped forward. She skipped over several rows of disorganised seats, then ducked behind a family of four, who had all died together while protecting each other.

Mila poked her head from the cover and checked Zemny. He was still struggling. It appeared his mind was slowly being eaten and replaced.

Risking using her senses, Mila tried to examine the failing man. She wasn’t close enough. Seeing Zemny still clutching his head, she moved closer.

A new wave of disturbing sounds washed over her, trying to infiltrate her head. Nothing happened. Mila’s will was too spent, but still too much to be easily influenced.

Then it happened. Mila’s senses brushed against Zemny’s body. She frowned, feeling the oh-so-familiar corruption cursing through his body. It wasn’t as bad as with Silinth, but Zemny also wasn’t as powerful.

From what Mila could tell, he would lose soon. But not just yet. She finally reached the stage. Her body tensed. She was now close enough to Zemny for his attacks to reach her instantly.

A reassuring feeling pushed Mila to proceed. She took a deep breath, ignoring the stench of death, then crawled on the stage.

There was nowhere to hide here. Mila staggered, her feet not landing correctly. She hurried to glance at Zemny, but he was still struggling.

It was even grosser to see the transformation from this close. Mila wanted to avert her eyes from the falling pieces of skin as they peeled away from the flesh and were replaced by a scabbing, ligneous surface.

That wasn’t a choice Mila could have. She kept paying attention to the man as she moved closer to the ball of energy.

Even the lengthening limbs didn’t make Mila look away. She opened her mouth to whisper. “Attack now?” She prodded her companion, finding their current position to be excellent for a sudden attack.

Mila received a negative. The hatred for Zemny was still there. She felt the desire to rid the world of his presence. But there also was a warning to not provoke the man.

Whatever the reason might be, Mila knew the old ghost wouldn’t waste the chance if he thought it was beneficial.

And currently, Mila had to change what the ritual was doing. She extended her sense into the ball, connecting herself with the controls of the ritual.

The whole thing was… Overwhelming. Mila felt her mind struggle to comprehend what she was feeling. She had thought she knew what to do, but now… She wasn’t so sure.

After receiving an encouraging prod, Mila sighed, then began twisting some of the meanings and targeting of the ritual.

Despite her doubts, Mila found no resistance to her interference. She fell into a rhythm, chipping away at the enormous work of changing the ritual.